


Drowning

by glowstars555



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Audio Format: Streaming, Crying, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Format: Streaming, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Video Format: Streaming, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:29:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowstars555/pseuds/glowstars555
Summary: TW//Read the tagsJust a vent fic about Tommy having some hard mental times and Wilbur comforting him (in ch.2 mostly)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 12
Kudos: 194





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a vent fic, anything said here is fiction and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Tommy slammed the front door closed, careless of whether or not his parents were home to scold him for the action. He dropped his backpack and coat at the door and toed off his shoes before climbing the stairs to his room and slamming that door too. He leaned against his bedroom door, sliding down it until he was sitting on the floor, head in his hands.

Tears poured down his face, dripping down his arms onto the floor and into his lap. He couldn’t shake the feeling of his chest being crushed by an incredibly heavy object. It felt like his ribs were caving in and his head was about to explode and he just wanted it to stop.

But he wasn’t that lucky. No. He deserved this. He deserved this pain. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He’s never been good enough. He was so tired of not being good enough. He was just so tired. He managed to make his way over to his bed, collapsing into his mattress and closing his eyes, begging for sleep ~~(or death)~~.

But sleep wouldn’t come. He laid awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. Staring at the wall. Staring at the back of his eyelids. And yet, nothing. Sleep refused to give itself over to Tommy, so he laid awake. And he stared at nothing.

* * *

Tommy woke up knowing the day wasn’t going to be any better than the previous. The rain spattered against his window, a couple drops coming through his open window along with the chilling breeze. He sighed before rolling out of bed, moving to shut the window. He stared out the glass for a second before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, noticing the bags under his eyes in his reflection. He felt even worse than yesterday. He let his hands drop to his sides, sighing again and sitting down at his desk. He checked the time.

“12:30? Already?” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. Tommy opened the Discord application on his computer to be greeted with multiple messages from Wilbur.  
**“Tommy”**  
**“Tommy”**  
**“Tommy”**  
**“Wake up”**  
**“We’re supposed to stream at 1pm.”**  
**“Tommy”**  
**“You’d better be awake in time for the stream, child.”**  
Tommy rolled his eyes.  
_“im awake, calm ur tits”_  
He almost instantly received a response.  
**“Good. 30 minutes until stream. Be ready.”**

Tommy curled into his chair, resting his forehead on his knees. He felt so tired despite just waking up and the last thing he wanted to do was stream. But he couldn’t cancel on Wilbur again. Tommy had already asked him to reschedule this stream a few days ago and Wilbur had graciously (albeit reluctantly) complied, giving the teen a few more days to try and figure himself out.

Apparently it wasn’t long enough.

He took a deep breath and attempted to remind himself why he was doing this. Why he was alive. Why he loved streaming. He lifted his head from where it rested on his knees and glanced at the time again. 12:45. Why did it seem like he was losing time? Why did it feel like everything was happening too fast, but nothing was happening at all? Why did he feel like he needed something to happen, but couldn’t bear another thing on his plate? Why did it feel like he was drowning?

His Discord notification chimed again. This time, it was Wilbur’s Discord announcing the beginning of his stream. Tommy’s eyes lost focus as he stared at the little red circle that indicated the alert.

Fuck.

Tommy opened Streamlabs.

* * *

The stream was going fine at first. Tommy was able to put on the mask of happiness he always did, Wilbur was able to keep chat entertained for him, and chat was able to keep him distracted from the looming anxiety he felt creeping up on him. The stream was going fine. Until it wasn’t.

“Tommy?”  
Tommy sat up suddenly, realizing he hadn’t been listening to the older man.  
“Sorry, what’s up?” he asked, thankful his facecam wasn’t on. He would prefer the chat not see his unfocused eyes and vacant expression as he dissociated in the middle of a conversation.  
“I was just saying that I think these rats might need a bit more incentive, y’know what I mean?” The mischievous smile that graced Wilbur’s face was evident without even looking at him.  
“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down… What would you say to some RAVAGERS?” Tommy quickly switched to the Ravager Spawn Egg his character held in his inventory and faced Wilbur’s player.  
“NO TOMMY, WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND THE RAVAGERS?!” Wilbur laughed. Tommy cringed slightly at the shouting, turning his volume down slightly and laughing a little with his friend, trying to appear okay despite the sinking feeling growing in his stomach. What was wrong with him? They were having fun. He should be feeling happy.  
_So why do I feel like the world is collapsing in on me?_  
He missed another question.  
“Sorry again, what did you say?”  
Wilbur huffed.  
“Pay attention, Tommy, you’re making Elodie’s job more difficult than it needs to be.”  
Tommy couldn’t tell if that was a joke. It didn’t matter, the message was clear: stop fucking everything up.  
“Sorry, Elodie,” he mumbled, similar to a young child who had just been told to apologize by his mother. There was a beat of hesitation from Wilbur’s side, as he was taken aback by the seemingly serious response to his joke.  
“It’s fine, she deserves the work.” Wilbur joked. Tommy shook his head although no one was there to see him. No she didn’t. He was ruining everything. Wilbur was right. Tommy was just a pain in the ass.

He glanced at chat.

"tommy’s so annoying why does wilbur play with him lmao"

He was so tired

"LOL WHY DOES THIS KID EVEN HAVE VIEWERS"

He was _so_ tired.

"Obviously Wilbur hates Tommy OmegaLul"

He broke.

* * *

Tears sprung to his eyes, and a couple slid down his cheek.

Not now. Please, not now.

He sniffed softly and curled into himself once more, taking his hands away from his keyboard and hugging his knees to his chest.

_I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Ican’tdothisIcan’tdothisIcan’tdothis I **can’t**. Please. I can’t do this anymore. I’m drowning. I’m dying. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m **dying**. Why won’t anyone help me?_

* * *

Tommy was distantly aware of someone calling his name.

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t respond if he wanted to.

“Breathe for me, Tommy,”  
Wilbur’s calm and quiet voice slightly parted the fog of his brain. He took a shuddering breath. His chest hurt.  
“Good, you’re doing amazing, Tommy. Just breathe slowly.”  
Tommy took another breath, this one more steady. His stomach hurt.  
“If you think you can, could you try to end your stream for me Tommy?”

Panic gripped his chest once more. He was still live.

He reached for his mouse and quickly ended the stream.

“Are you okay?” Wilbur asked softly. Tommy let out a wet, half-laugh.

“Take a guess,” he whispered.  
“Are your parents home?”  
“At work.” Why was talking so hard?  
“I’m coming over. Don’t do anything until I get there, okay? I’ll be there in 15.”  
Tommy nodded, forgetting Wilbur couldn’t see him yet again, before humming quietly in affirmation.


End file.
